


Is There Somewhere?

by kisslandxo



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Depression, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Mental Illness, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tags to be added, lowkey alcoholism, sex worker at beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25086988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisslandxo/pseuds/kisslandxo
Summary: An AU where Violet leaves her city and hopes this is the last time she'll need to run away and maybe, luck will be on her side this time.
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Boom, Boom, Boom

**Author's Note:**

> story title: is there somewhere by halsey  
> (i got inspired for this while listening to that song at the start of the year but completely forgot about this story and plot until tonight, so here it is)

Neon lights flickered into the hotel room, full of life as they danced across the walls before surrendering themselves to the darkness and dispersing on the hardwood floor, just as easily. A sultry bass flooded the atmosphere, booming as a female’s voice sung in almost a whisper, lyrics full of sin and seduction, disguised by metaphors and a repetitive chorus. It matched the scene perfectly; Violet leaned herself against the fresh white duvet, her skimpy dress hitched up at her hips, partially exposing her tiny red panties. Meanwhile, he sat on the velvet chair by the window, overlooking the racing traffic of the city whilst he ashed his cigarette, letting the debris fall to the ground without so much as a care. Violet lit her own and watched the blue hue of the smoke as it twirled before her, vibrant against the shadows and amassing heat near her fingertips. An obvious absence of words cursed the air. Violet inhaled in anticipation, awaiting the move of the toned man in front of her. And yet, he didn’t make a move, besides sip his straight whiskey and let the ice clink against the rim of the glass.

His demeanor was no different from the rest; calm, controlled, cocky but he didn’t make an advance as quickly as the others. Typically, Violet found that they'd all have their hands intertwined with her long black hair by now, their strong arms gripping around her waist as they made their way down south, not for her pleasure, but rather the satisfaction that they could, indeed, have sex with an attractive young woman. It reeked of desperation to satisfy their egos, to numb the very real idea that all the men were married and trapped in 9-5 jobs. Cheating on their wives was the only way to repent all the stress from the meetings, or heinous coworkers or the one employee they desperately wanted to fire but could never find reasonable grounds to do so. Violet hardly minded. After all, she’d get paid once it was over.

It’s not like she got nothing out of it, exactly. Besides the money, she left satisfied each time, a deviant response to such a vilified profession. While it was never due to the sex, it was from something far deeper within, etched harder into her heart as it beat against the exposed chests of the men, naked flesh upon naked flesh.

Violet sighed gently. Such a thing would be mundane or perhaps even expected, though this time it were hardly unintentional. Her gaze shifted back to the man in the chair, whose name she’d forgotten to remember, and he remained in the same position. She might not have had any concrete plans but she still yearned for a night out to the club, spending some of her cash from the evening on tequila shots to party until dawn. First and foremost, she needed his money and he’d only give it once he received his request.

The man’s cigarette burned to the filter between his fingers before he dared to lift his gaze from the skyline. He finally scanned the room and Violet exhaled, her body straightening up as her heels landed on the floor with a click.

“You alright?” Her words were deprived of any sincerity as they dissipated as quickly as they were spoken.

He gave a brazen smile in response and it appeared to Violet that this appointment might _finally_ begin.

“Yeah, of course. Let’s just get on with this.”

Violet relaxed and nodded, satisfied that the man knew she wouldn’t care about what he had to say. She was only after his money, after all, and talking about feelings with someone — their’s or her own — scared her and forged distance between her and the conversation, leaving her isolated amongst all her feelings in an empty bottle.

It proceeded as it always did, his hands all over her soft skin, pulling away the straps of her dress and her bra, sending them to plummet at her feet. He took his button-up off and unzipped his suit pants, sliding them off before pushing her back onto the bed. Violet zoned out, her body on autopilot as the man focused on her most delicate parts. She formulated the responses appropriate to each of his movements, despite not having an inch of truth behind any of them. Soon enough, he was moaning and grunting, pacing faster and faster to release before he came undone on top of her. She mimicked his body language, concealing her pleasureless experience behind her perfected fake orgasm.

What came next never ceased to elate her. The man climbed off the bed and began dressing in a haste fashion whilst she eyed him carefully. His large hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a designer wallet. He thumbed through the notes, counting them as if deciding what she was worth. Violet let out a satisfied hum after adding up the numbers in her head. It was more than she usually received and she amounted it to be one of two things: her perfect performance of reaching climax or the fact that she simply asked if he was alright. She hoped it was the former since she had no intention of becoming a therapist for any of the anonymous clients but a bonus was a bonus, and this one she intended to metabolise in her liver.

The man wished her goodnight, kissed her gently on the cheek in a rather formal way and she maintained her faux smile until the door was gently clicked from the other side. At last, the room was vacant, music still humming through the speakers and a soft horn or two could be heard from the streets down below.

Gathering her items and touching up her red lipstick, Violet vacated the room and padded down the carpeted hallway towards the lift. That peculiar satisfaction ran beneath her skin, firing her veins with a rush she couldn’t name as she pressed the button and waited. Not much longer, she stood in the hotel lobby.

“Another busy night?” The lady, Allie, inquired, offering a warm smile from behind the silver desk.

“Yeah, you bet.” Violet returned a smile, not quite letting it reach her eyes as she passed across the key.

“Be safe, hun. Have a good night.”

Violet’s breath hitched in her throat for just a second, her hands grasping at her hair to twirl it around, mindlessly.

“You too, thanks.”

Her black heels clicked against the linoleum floor, ignoring the glares from the middle-class citizens, clad in their finest evening wear in the corner. She knew she looked like a mess; her black eyeshadow was most definitely all smudged, much like her lipstick, and her dress left hardly anything to the imagination. Alas, she kept her head high and refused to entertain their judgments with a display of insecurity.

Violet found herself lost in fragments of memories as they flickered through her mind, sifting until they could find the very worst ones to torture her with. She refused to let them in, especially as cat-calling could be heard from the passing car. Instead, she glanced up at the night, mesmerized by the twinkling stars littered across the black canvas, hindered by the forthcoming lights from infinitely tall apartment complexes. Much to her relief, she found herself in line for a club and as if acting on reflex, began pulsing her leg in time with the music, overflowing from within to the outside. Boom, boom, boom. With her license checked and entry fee waived, she followed the beating of the music downstairs, allowing freedom to overtake her mind.

She ordered a tequila shot at the bar, gulping it back as though it were water before she ordered another. And then another. And then another. And then another. A glass of coke and a double shot of rum sat in her hand as she weaved her way throughout sweaty bodies to take her favourite place in the middle of the dance floor. Violet gulped down the drink, sensing the alcohol slowly inducing its effects. She danced as if she had nothing to lose as if she were dancing like it was the last time she’d ever do so. Her arms swung above her head, her hips snapping in time to the bass before her knees bent and she was grinding to the floor, just as the beat dropped.

This was where she felt most alive. Not in the bedroom with the random men but out here, on the dance floor in the middle of a dingy London club on the complete edge of intoxication. She was most definitely a lightweight, particularly as she had hardly eaten anything all day, and her wallet thanked her for it.

The flashing lights shone on her face before drawing back up to the roof, cascading rays down to the party-goers. It was an almost euphoric feeling that crawled up her spine each and every time she mingled amongst the crowd, chasing the hedonistic night all the others were pleading for, too. Violet danced for a while longer, letting the _boom, boom, boom_ flood into her heart, hammering her heart against her ribcage as the alcohol and physical activity began to catch up to her.

She bounced her way out of the crowd, never letting the movements of her body halt, not even once she placed down her empty glass at the bar and order another two shots. She slung them back, quick as ever, anticipating another forgetful night of sin. Violet started back to the dance floor, eager to get amongst the others and pound her fists to the beat until the sun would rise.

Her body was suddenly invaded by the space of another, colliding with hers instantaneously. She pulled away, staring at the person to work out what they wanted.

She was met with black hair contrasted by fair skin before her eyes settled on his face. His cheeks were flushed bright red, sweat collecting on his forehead.

“Uh, I’m so sorry,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you okay?”

Violet blinked, indulging in the burning of her liver for a split second. He most definitely wasn’t her type but none of the other boys in the club seemed to be either so she decided to make the night not entirely wasteful.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was just planning to dance.” She displayed one of her classic smirks, eyes twinkling with suggestion and mischief below a perfected quirked eyebrow.

The boy nodded for a second, a blank look across his face, save for the flush of his cheeks, either not seeming to catch her hint or contemplating it. Violet watched the pieces fall together in his head and the changing expressions he broadcast; confusion, then an apparently failed attempt to conceal excitement.

“I could join you?” The boy disguised it as a question, possibly to save himself from embarrassment if anything.

Feeling bold, she winked and lead him back into the crowd.

“I never got your name.” He tried to speak over the music that grew louder and louder the further Violet tugged him.

She managed to guess what his mumbles consisted of and, leaning into his ear she whispered, “It’s Violet. And you?”

“Travis.” He shouted back. She hardly cared. This was just a part of the night to her, a part of the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. Most of the time, she never got their names. They never cared for that, not her or whoever she was hooking up with. All she needed was proximity, closeness, a sign that she was desirable and worthy of physical affection, no matter how temporary. An inkling always passed through her, aware that it was toxic but it subsided before she ever had the time to dwell on it. It was just one client after the next, one drunk hookup after the next and she managed to convince herself that it was working out perfectly for her.

The two danced for a while, Violet swaying her ass to the beat when she knew he was watching, even if the intention was nothing more than to make him flustered under her presence.

Begrudgingly, Travis’ hands found their way to her waist and he awkwardly adjusted them, endeavoring to be sexy. Violet couldn’t feel anything from his touch, nothing besides the intoxication sedating her body and the vibration of the music. Boom, boom, boom. She focused on that rather than how estranged his touch felt, how naive he came across, how forceful his seductive attempt read to be.

And yet, right when her hips were about to swerve around and out of his touch, Travis held her body up to his. She felt the heat of his lips tickling her ear, confusion amounting in her head until he kissed her jaw.

“What are your rates?” Travis abruptly asked, his ear impossibly close to hers.

To Violet, a cocktail of bewilderment and restlessness swirled in her stomach, palpitating throughout her bloodstream, forcing her to stand there, mouth agape, and pleading for the club to suddenly collapse around them so the earth could swallow her whole. She felt uneasy, the cocktail violently shaking up within. It didn’t seem right.

“What are you talking about?” Her desperation to play it off fell short, too consumed by a sense of dread to invoke her usually well-crafted walls.

A bitter chuckle came from the boy and his innocent persona from before seemed nothing other than that — a persona.

“You know what I mean. The thing you do with those old guys in the hotel rooms.”

The words sunk heavier as she repeated them in her head, frantically scanning her mind for a simple explanation to this. It could be her clothes, right? Maybe her disheveled appearance? Or maybe he just assumed she was from the way she moved, the way she could command a man with just one look? None of them clicked into place, none of them struck her as the right answer to the unbelievable question of why this man knew what she did.

“Anyways,” Travis continued, his demeanor slowly blending into a rendition of all the men in the rooms, just like the one from earlier. “I know all about it.”

“It’s perfectly legal and it’s consensual. Nobody gets hurt, so what’s your point?” Violet quipped, the booze feeding her confidence but doing nothing to dull the sinking pit in her abdomen.

“People do get hurt, like their wives and their children. Did you think about that?” He stared down at her, a smirk plastered proudly onto his face.

Violet was well aware she was walking on eggshells, and as she always trusted her intuition — the one that was currently screaming from inside of her and her gut, toxic flames swirling around, enough to produce bile up her throat — she proceeded with caution.

“That’s not on me,” No matter how careful her words were, she knew they’d hardly be enough.

A cruel laugh escaped his lips, filling the air and she became all too aware of her surroundings. The people clustered around them, the erratic beat, the alcohol, the heavy stench of sweat, the red lights hammering back and forth.

“Oh, but it is. And I can make you disappear in an instant if you’re not careful.” Travis gritted his teeth and she felt smaller and smaller, like in a minute she’d shrink into nothing from sheer embarrassment.

Being utterly helpless, small and pitiful without holding at least some semblance of control made Violet’s world spark a fiery blaze, one that begged to hold the power that she spent years convincing herself she was worthy of having .

“What the fuck do you want?” Her voice quivered, uncharacteristically, and demolished the faux confidence…

“I want your earnings. £100,000 by tomorrow morning.”

Violet’s head shook as her brows scrunched together. “I don’t have that much money.”

Travis laughed, once more, before his sinister tone crept back in and the hairs on Violet’s arms stood up. “Tomorrow. You meet me outside of this club with £100,000 or else it’s over for you. I’ll be waiting at 9 and if you don’t show by 10, you’ll never see a damned client again. Do you hear me?”

The threat laced in his voice, sending panic to her mind as it suddenly became far too real. The air was too heavy, the music was too loud and his grip on her arm was too much. Violet’s throat dried up, the blood in her veins quickly not spreading fast enough to keep up with the pure terror within. And then she was hit with the emptiness; the cold feeling of nothing spreading from her heart, right down to her the tips of her fingers to the top of her throat. It was suffocating and she almost thought she couldn’t breathe. It was too much, far too much. The _boom, boom, boom_ was disorientating, her head spinning as she took in his words again and again. _I’m dead, right? Basically, I’m fucking dead. What do I do?_ Her mind ran in circles, thoughts darting back and forth and Violet could have sworn she had been trapped there for hours and hours but a mere few seconds had passed. She blinked, swallowing her fear as best she could, and decided to play it safe.

“Okay. Sure, I’ll be there with the money.” A blue strobe light flashed across her face, illuminating her creased brows and the pure anxiety in her eyes.

“You better be, Violet. You’ve got to pay for all you’ve done, all the relationships you’ve ruined, and all the lives that have suffered because of you.” Travis’s dark voice leeched into her mind, the evil voices grabbing her words and forcing guilt to the surface. Her heart became heavy, the emptiness subsided as her stomach twisted and turned, so rapidly she almost thought she’d vomit all over the man’s tidy black shoes.

“I will.” She almost whispered, barely unable to register anything except her beating heart and chaotic mind.

“Good,” Travis gave her one last devilish smirk before his eyes burned into hers. To Violet, it seemed like hours passed; just her and him, in the club, absolutely petrified that she could be dead by this time tomorrow if she didn’t comply. Yet he quickly turned, and her blurry eyes followed his back right to the exit.

Violet ran to the bathroom, pushing drunken strangers to the side as she felt the club closing in. The lights were pushing her to the edge and all she wanted was to think clearly, while the tequila from earlier was working against her, causing her to sway in front of the mirror as her hands gripped the side of the white sink.

She stared at herself and as the hazy memories of the past year flicked in her mind, she wondered who was staring back at her. _Do I like you? Am I okay with you? Are you all I want you to be?_

A few stray tears left her eyes, stripping away shades of black mascara as they ran down her cheeks. _Pull yourself together, this isn’t the time for self-loathing. I need a plan. I need a fucking plan._ Her fists suddenly collided with the mirror, so fast she barely had any control over it. A scream left her mouth yet it was muffled by the loud music flooding in through the bottom of the bathroom door.

_Think Violet, come on, think. Really fucking think._

Her heels clicked against the dirty linoleum tiles, pacing back and forth with her fingers in her hair as she racked her brain for any sort of solution, any fucking solution. To Violet, it didn’t have to be something that would provide a happy ever after, it didn’t have to be all rainbows and sunshine and besides, she’d already had enough of hoping for that, anyway, _and look how that turned out._ It just had to be okay enough that she wouldn’t get killed by a random guy or have to pay money she didn’t have.

She got by okay, always had her rent paid on time, and could afford to keep a supply of vodka in her apartment. She had her nights where she’d splurge on a bag or do a pub crawl with someone she hardly knew until the early hours of the morning, and she got by. But she didn’t have fucking £100,000 just lying around. And even if she did, she wouldn’t give it to this random bloke, no matter how much he scared her.

The pacing seemed pointless, her mind failing to come up with any rational decision until her fingers suddenly collided with the necklace resting against her collarbones and the cold silver reminded her of how it all used to be. _Maybe I can do what I’m best at._ The small daisy beneath her fingertips was worn, with the blue detail chipping but she felt relieved for the first time since that man entered her life.

With slightly shaking fingertips and uneven breath, she took her phone from her purse and scrolled through her contacts, landing on the one person who’d ever understand the mess she was in, the one person who could help her out.

The line rang for a few times, only furthering her shaking hands before she heard a click and a smooth, feminine voice sounded throughout the voice, “Violet? How are you, gorgeous? It’s been far too long.”

“I’m, uh,” Violet took a deep breath, struggling to compile her thoughts as the tequila hit her harder than before. “I… I’ve gotten into some trouble, I guess. Some guy is wanting me to pay £100,000 by tomorrow or else I’m dead, essentially,” A chuckle escaped her lips. “Anyway, uh, I was wondering if I could come visit you. At least until everything quietens down. London’s been pretty boring, anyway, so a change might be good.”

There was a pause on the line, silence filling the speaker. All Violet could hear for a few seconds was that _boom, boom, boom,_ sending her mind almost into overdrive.

“Yeah,” The voice on the other end sounded cherry. “Of course you can. You should take the train as soon as you can, though, don’t want to risk anything. Listen, you keep me updated and I’ll come pick you up when you’re at the station. Does that sound okay, babes?”

“Of course. I… I really can’t thank you enough. You’re truly a lifesaver.”

“No worries, hun, you know I’ve got your back. Besides, it’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other. I’ve truly missed our nights out.”

“Thank you, I’ve missed them, too.” No amount of words could express the relief that flooded through Violet’s veins.

“I’ll see you soon, Violet.”

“I’ll see you soon, Priya.”

The line ended and Violet had a smile on her face, content that she had finally figured out how to escape this mess. Anyways, a change in scenery couldn’t be all that bad and maybe it would be good to get out, to find some life somewhere else. It’s not like she was a student at university or held contracted employment. All she needed was to pack her bags, book a train and dispose of her phone and she’d be okay. She’s done this before, it should be easier the second time. And this time, Violet wasn’t leaving anything behind except a city of mistakes and regrets.


	2. Cherry Knots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's the little story of the girl you know,  
> Relying on the kindness of strangers,  
> Tying cherry knots, smiling, doing party favours."  
> (Lana Del Rey - Carmen)

The streetlights became dimmer and dimmer as the music faded, slowly becoming a distant memory as Violet rushed across the pavement with her hands tangled in her hair. Her only mission was to get back to her apartment and pack her belongings. From there, she’d get the train to Priya’s place and it would all be okay. _It will be all okay, right? Violet began to second guess herself as questions flooded her mind, one after the other, resulting in a constant battle between herself and her all-consuming mind. I’ll be fine, you’ll see. He can’t find you at Priya’s. It’s far enough away._ Her head didn’t accept any of it, preferring to form worst case scenarios in her mind that she couldn’t ignore — _you’ll be on the train thinking you’ve gotten away from it when suddenly, he’ll appear at the next stop and sit and watch you, patiently waiting until no passengers are around and he’ll come for you, he’ll get you and_ he — Alcohol. Some fucking alcohol. Violet forced herself to focus on the street, seeking out where she was the second her vision cleared. The liquor store was only a block away and thankfully, open 24 hours.

The walk to the store was quick, leaving Violet tucked into the depths of her mind where the thoughts were loud; only dimmed by aching from the absence of feeling in her chest. _How can one feel so empty yet so full of emotion at the same time?_ A neon light glowed up ahead and it revealed itself to be the liquor store, through red lettering. She walked in, a sight ding sounding as she crossed the threshold between the cold street and the comforting store.

The man behind the counter didn’t take much notice, too immersed within the newspaper he held. Violet walked to the back of the store and turned to the shelf on the right, finding the liquor bottles gleaming at her. She picked up the vodka bottle with the red cap and Russian lettering without hesitation and crossed the layout, handing it to the cashier.

“Right, this’ll be £12. Can I see your ID?”

“Sure,” Violet grabbed her drivers license from her purse and placed it on the counter. The man took a quick glance at it before handing it back to her.

“Halloween, huh?” The man raised a bushy eyebrow.

She held back the urge to roll her eyes, remembering how many comments she had gotten about her birthday. “Yeah. Must have been cursed.”

His eyes briefly flicked up and down her body, before settling back on her face. Violet tapped her leg against the linoleum of the store, frantically wanting to leave. “You know, I wouldn’t say that.” The look in his eyes, accompanied by the tight smirk on his thin lips, said everything she needed to know.

Without answering, she placed a few notes and coins in front of him, grabbed the vodka and walked out of the store. _Fucking asshole._

Violet stared at the bottle in her hands and silently tried to fight the urge to crack it open right then and there. It was a ten minute walk to her place — shorter if she quickened her strides and ignored her aching feet in her heels. Y _ou’ll walk faster if you drink, you know? It’ll be fun, anyways. What else do you have? You’re leaving._ The darker side of her mind was always strongest — the devil, if you will — whilst the lighter side wanting to guide her to a safe haven where self-destruction didn’t exist hid quietly in the corner, only whispering encouragements when she was strong enough to battle the evil voices away. The light side was nowhere to be seen.

She looked down at the clear liquid once again before she let out a sigh and with a satisfying click, the lid unscrewed and she lifted it to her mouth, savouring all the liquid from her large gulps. The bitter taste was normal to her, perhaps even comforting, and not a muscle in her face twitched as she swallowed it and let it flood drown her throat, straight to her liver.

Her brain was right as she found herself at her apartment building not much longer and unlocked the door and paced straight up the stairs. The building was on the cheap side and definitely didn’t cost enough for the residents to deserve a doorman or fancy waiting room. She didn’t even have an elevator. She made her way up five flights of stairs before she found her door. Apartment E2.

The second Violet unlocked it, she ran to her bedroom and threw the vodka bottle onto her unmade bed. Her closet sprang wide open and she took piles out at a time, laying them all on her bed with tense hands. She pulled out the large suitcase from under her bed, the same one she used a couple years ago to head to London, back when she didn’t entirely know what she was getting herself into. The clothes sat messily inside the black fabric, with a few unfolded shirts and unwashed dresses, with shoes lying atop of them, all complied into a hurried mess of a string of bad decisions.

The vodka enabled Violet to think a little clearer, slowly batting away the cruel thoughts and opening up her own string of consciousness where she could check off all the places she kept her belongings. Her nightstand was emptied, besides her hand feeling the bottom of the second drawer. With a small pull, the cellotape came loose and the envelope fell into her hands. _Thank fuck my mother was such a tight-ass_. She pulled out a few notes and shoved them into her purse and placed the remainder in a pocket in her suitcase. With the tiny bathroom sparse, the last place to check was the living room. It was generous to call it a proper living space, with the single small couch and marked coffee table, with the kitchenette adjacent. Thankfully, her clients would sometimes buy her dinner otherwise she’d either get a craving for takeaway or an inebriated state in which she could hardly touch anything for at least half a day, so she hardly kept her pantries stocked, aside from a jar of instant coffee, a box of cereal and milk. A bottle of water sat on top of the counter and she poured the contents down the drain and filled it with the contents of her new liquor bottle. It was a trick that had followed her since she was 16, allowing her to escape on campus, at her childhood house and everywhere in between.

In a few minutes, the various ornaments sprinkled around her house for the past year were shoved away in the luggage she held as she took once last glance around. The small television was a part of the apartment, as well as all the furniture and all she had with her was what belonged to her. Violet set her keys on the beige countertop and left, setting a mental reminder to text her landlord on the train. She was thankful that she only paid per month and her next day to pay rent was three days away. Her landlord was cheap and didn’t believe in anything but verbal contracts as he tried his best to get away with evading the tax laws as much as possible. She had no lease, no agreement so nothing could hold her back now. Except _that_ guy _if he comes to find you. He could end it all in an instant and Priya would be left hanging._ Fuck off.

With her suitcase in tow, she hurried along the street, not even stopping as she gulped from her water bottle, allowing the chemicals to inebriate her as much as they wanted. A yellow car sat up ahead and Violet ran, hearing the wheels of her luggage click against the uneven pavement with the sharp steps of her stilettos.

A couple of younger boys emerged from the taxi as she approached it and ran up to the window. “Can you take me to the train station?”

“Of course, love.” The driver replied sweetly and she felt herself relax.

Behind her, a whistle could be heard and she turned around to find one of the boys staring at her with a glint in his eyes.

“Babe, you could ride my train.” The boy had blue hair and wore a dumb expression on his face, with an eyebrow ridiculously high, almost meeting his hairline, and a half-smirk, half-chuckle upon his lips.

“Do you wanna get the shit kicked out of you again, Felix?” The second boy cursed, eyeing his friend.

“Ugh. Fucking pig.” Violet placed her luggage in the boot and climbed into the backseat. She gazed out the window, witnessing the dark haired boy shove the other.

The drive was pleasant with only the low volume of the radio littering in the air. She continued to stare out onto the streets, aware it would be her last time there for a while. The city lights gleamed in the dark of the night with citizens staggered along the sidewalk, mainly stumbling from their nights out.

The car pulled up to the train station in a comfortable silence, until the driver turned around to her. “Is here okay, miss?”

“It’s great, thank you.” She took out a few notes from her purse and handed them to him. Once out of the taxi, she grabbed her bag out of the boot and headed to the desk inside.

The train station seemed sparse, with only a few patrons scattered within the confines of the automatic doors and steel interior. Violet rushed towards an open kiosk, where the lady behind the desk was typing away on her computer.

“Hi, I’d like to buy a ticket to Manchester.”

The lady smiled and clicked her mouse. “What time would you like to depart?”

“As soon as possible,” Violet quickly rushed out, managing to hold a smile.

The attendant’s keys clicked for a few seconds before she looked back up. “There’s a departure in 20 minutes.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

“No worries, that comes to £140. Cash or card?”

“Cash, please.” She was already gathering the money from the purse, more than ready to get on the train.

The lady accepted the money and handed Violet a printed ticket. “It’ll be on platform C at 5.”

Violet gratefully took the ticket and exchanged her thanks, before she walked along and found an empty bench to wait on. With the water bottle still attached to her hand, she sighed and gulped more of it down, aware it’d take nearly three hours to arrive in Manchester.

She decided to text Priya and let her know she’d take the train soon. She also texted her landlord, making him aware of her sudden departure and blaming it on a family emergency and she couldn’t hold the apartment as she didn’t know when she’d be back. It’s a good thing he hardly cares about his tenants, as long as they pay their rent on time.

The wait for the train consisted of Violet’s leg bouncing up and down, sending her hands into a fidgeting spiral as she tried to ignore the small pit in her stomach and the poisonous voice in her head telling her that if she encountered Travis, she’d deserve whatever he’d do to her. She took regular sips out of her bottle, eyeing the clock on the wall every few minutes and hoping that the next time she’d look up, she’d be ready for her departure — only to find that a few minutes had past and she was stuck in a never-ending loop. She grew tired of waiting and stepped outside and opened the cigarette box she kept in her purse. Violet held a cigarette to her lips, lit it and inhaled deeply, praying the nicotine would provide her with all the relief she needed. The smoke twirled in the air, blending into the grey sky that slowly beginning to lighten up, with a small ray of red twisting amongst the night in the horizon. There were no stars to be seen amongst the pollution of the city and Violet longed to see them once again; to feel the wonder and admiration for the universe as it hung above her, with her back pressed against dewy grass as she realised how fragile life could be, how the stars were the only constant with every day and nothing will ever be exactly like it was. She yearned for that naivety, the one that could make you spiritually enlightened for a few weeks with an acid trip you took with friends, until the brightness dimmed and life was always what it was: spending days and weeks and months in a blur, trying to achieve what you believe will make you happy, only to realise that the mess you’ve made from not caring about those hazy days will continue the cycle and you’ll be left to wonder if you can ever escape it.

The cigarette was burned down to the tip rather quickly, with her long inhales and quick manner of lifting it back up to her lips, attempting to get as much of the cancerous tobacco in her lungs as possible. With nicotine satisfyingly floating through her veins and a new-found calm within, she stepped back into the train station and looked at the large clock, once again. It was 7 minutes until she would have to board the train. Violet, unable to sit in the chilly opening for any longer, made her way down the escalator to platform C and sat on one of the benches across from the tracks. Her eyes followed the passengers getting off the train on the platform adjacent from her, all bundled up in coats with luggage or business bags in their hands — the same black leather ones that would be placed on the floor near the bed where she’d take what happened to her and stare up at the ceiling, pondering what type of alcohol she’d like to buy later that night. The passengers walked briskly, some had children, some were alone, but none seemed to look as disheveled as she did. Still in her tiny dress without any touch-ups to her makeup, aside from her lipstick in the hotel room, she was a horror at almost five in the morning on a Thursday to the average person. But before any horrific thoughts could arise, the train slowly pulled into the station.

Violet boarded it with no issues. She placed her suitcase in the overhead luggage and braced herself for the ride ahead, with her earbuds in one hand, water bottle in the cup holder and phone beside her, she was ready to escape for the next three hours. A bus officiant checked their tickets, just as the train left the platform, slowly making his way down the aisles and politely chatting to the passengers in the black fabric seats. She smiled as she held her ticket out for him and in a few seconds, he moved onto the couple sitting behind her. Violet put her earbuds in her heads, played her music and couldn’t have been more grateful to have been seated with nobody beside her as her mind drifted away and she flicked through her memories, filled with nostalgia, regret, melancholy and a silent promise to herself that she’d make a better life for herself in a new place.

———

The train came to an abrupt stop and a voice announced that they arrived at the station through the speaker. Violet collected her belongings and checked her phone, to see that Priya had sent her a text letting her know she was there.

The early morning breeze was cool against her arms as she shifted through the platform, glancing at the cloudy blue sky with a strange combination of inner peace and anxiety. She drifted through the station in a haze, relieved that she was finally out of London and that man would surely have no idea where she was. However, the pit in her stomach was back and her hands began to twitch nervously as she carried her bag into the parking lot and let Priya know she was out of the station. She lit up a cigarette, with shaking hands and slightly sweaty palms, and breathed it in. It soothed her, much like it did earlier in the morning and she found herself silently thanking whoever it was that found tobacco would make people feel this content.

“I see you’re still on the cancer sticks,” A soft voice approached Violet, accompanied with the soft clicking of heeled boots.

Violet turned and her lips formed a smile. “You know, I tried quitting once but I was so jittery that a client thought I was on drugs, like the proper hard stuff, and he almost walked out. Was a fucking good tipper though, so I had to convince him I was fine. Haven’t tried quitting ever since.”

“There’s my Violet,” Priya’s arms wrapped around Violet’s waist, holding her in a tight embrace in the parking lot. “Surely give me a puff?”

Violet handed the cigarette over with a look of amusement of her face. “You didn’t quit?”

Priya exhaled as she shook her head. “Nah, I cut back but guess it’s just like you. Old habits die hard and all that.”

Priya’s medium-toned skin glowed in the bright of the day, with her body fitted beautifully into a long-shelved black playsuit that accentuated her curves, complimented by her long brown waves that shined even under the clouds.

A few seconds passed as the scent of cheap, burnt tobacco flooded their senses, littering the air surrounding the entry to the train station. They were leaned against the wall a few meters away from the automatic doors but it didn’t stop a middle-aged woman coughing and staring on her way through the entry.

“I’m guessing the people here aren’t much better than in London, then?” The remark slip out of her mouth a little loudly, purposely to annoy the woman. In her defence, she probably wouldn’t have done it if she wasn’t frustrated from the events that unfolded, or if she had a little more booze than the few mouthfuls left in her bottle, or if the woman didn’t startlingly look similar to the woman she once knew as her mother. Or maybe it was all of them, or maybe the year of hearing constant judgments and catching the eyes of disapproving strangers had gotten to her.

“Depends, really. I’ve got some class friends, though. Seriously, I don’t even know if I’d still be here if it weren’t from them,” Priya handed the cigarette back to Violet, who finished it in a few long drags. “I think you’d get along well. Maybe some more than others but you’ll see what I mean.”

“I’m glad you’ve got people here, Pri,” She placed the butt of the cigarette in the bin next to her. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see about those friends, aye? Do they know what you used to do?”

Violet followed Priya as she made her way through the parking lot, trying her best to not sway in the air, or trip over her aching feet.

“Most of them, yeah, and they get it. The guys made a few jokes at first but the girls mostly thought it was alright. Especially one of them, she’s all for girl empowerment and that type of shit so she liked the idea of making money off being sexualised.” Priya chuckled, seeming nonchalant about the girl mentioned.

“She sounds cool. I think we’d have a lot in common.”

“She can be a bit intense but I think so, too.”

Priya stopped by a black sedan that had leather seats inside and looked sleek and fancy, and very, most definitely was her car.

“Fancy. Good to see your sugar-baby days paid off well.” Violet smirked and opened the door, spotting the modern console inside.

“Well, I had to get something out of it. All those dates and events were tiring but it was a good run. I’m happy I got out of it, though, otherwise I could be you.”

Violet met Priya one night at a hotel lobby, the both of them waiting for clients on the posh leather seats under a sparkling chandelier. Violet was just starting out, having only been in London for a month or so at that point, and Priya was more experienced. They both recognised their reasons for being there without even a word spoken, so they conversed before it turned to laughter and meeting up the next morning. As Violet soon found out, Priya was more focused on dates, events and essentially being ‘eye-candy’ for her clients. The pair used to go out and Violet was relieved she had found one proper friend in the city. They grew apart when Priya decided to go to Manchester, realising that she had more than enough money for real estate courses and eventually, her license. That was six months ago and Violet had been alone ever since.

A chill enveloped Violet, not the product of the sudden blare of the air-conditioning, but instead, the small frost in her heart as she found out she missed the proper company of others; almost disbelieving it had been so long, but the sudden rush of cold blood through her fingertips tried to tell her that she wanted it this way. She had wanted to be alone. But in the company of her old friend, she felt a bit more at ease with the walls of loneliness lowering, inch by inch, before her, and perhaps, the cloudy skies would force her to open up her heart for the first time in a year.

“Ha ha,” Violet’s playful tone billowed in the air. “Seriously, thank you. I could have been dead right now.”

Priya pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto a main road. “Of course, babe. I’m always here for you. But do you think he would have hurt you?”

She sighed and looked out the window, seeing small shops line the street. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

Priya nodded and turned again, heading down a road that looked similar to the last. After a few seconds, she spoke again. “I’ve got a spare bedroom at my apartment so I’ll take you there first and you can rest and freshen up. Afterwards, I’m going to take you to get brunch like we used to at this bakery near mine. One of my mates actually owns it so you’ll get to meet him.”

“Fuck, that sounds good. All of it. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it.” Priya smiled over at Violet.

“Right, so this mate, what do you think of him?”

“Why? Are you trying to make him a client?” She joked and Violet joined in on the laughter, feeling some tension leave her body.

“Trust me, I’m done with that. I just want to know what you think of him. Is a creep, a little too handsy, maybe a bit of a player?”

“I had almost forgotten how much you hate men.” Priya retorted, her face bright as she recalled a few instances where Violet ranted to her about the opposite sex.

“I don’t hate men, I just think that good ones are hard to find and after that, most of the good ones turn into pricks so I’m a bit a skeptical.” One particular encounter with a so-called ‘good one’ flickered through her mind but the remainder of the alcohol in her system allowed her to shake the memories away.

“Fair enough,” She chuckled, slowing down to make a left turn into a parking lot. “He’s definitely funny, supportive and I think you’d get along with him.”

“Alright, I’m trusting your judgement with this.”

Priya rolled down her window and swiped a keycard against the machine before the parking gate. The barriers lifted and she swiftly pulled into an empty parking space.

They both got of the car, Violet grabbing her luggage from the backseat as Priya double checked her parking. With the doors locked, Priya led her to elevator that stood a few metres away from the car. She swiped her card again and pressed the ‘up’ button and waited for the simple descent.

As soon as a ding cut through the air, followed the by sudden overflow of cool air as the elevator doors opened, they stepped inside and the brunette pressed the button to the fourth floor.

“Just so you know, it’s nothing super fancy, so lower your expectations.”

“I bet you it’s better than mine was.” Violet chuckled as the memory of a broken bathroom cabinet entered the forefront of her mind.

“Guess you’re about to find out.”

The elevator sounded a ding once more, cutting sharply through the soft sound of the air vent humming from above. Violet stepped out after Priya and was met with her heels touching a shiny floor, flowing to apartments spread out on either side. The interior was white and black and nothing like the standard wood that lined her old apartment. They continued down the hallway until they reached a door at the end of the corridor, with a big window to the right of it. Priya unlocked it and stepped inside, leaving Violet to raise her eyebrow at the sight that unfolded before her.

The interior was stunning. It was modestly decorated, with a few pictures on the wall and picture frames and a few ornaments here and there that tied in with the modernist, sleek style of the space. The kitchen seemed to be open plan, with a marble island adjacent from the pristine benches and silver fridge. Behind the marble placement was a few couches, purposely placed to face the wide flatscreen hung up on the wall, allowing space for guests to walk to the small balcony that Violet assumed looked over the city. She spotted a few doors to the left, most likely bedrooms and a bathroom, and surveyed the apartment, stuck in a trance of bewilderment. This was the sort of place she had dreamed of yet in her fantasies, she couldn’t have created such a concise interior style. The marble, silver and hidden tones of black and gold spread throughout, with white curtains, a simple white fluffy rug and matching white couches.

“Wow.” It was all Violet could say, too caught up in the glitz and glamour to soak it all in at once.

“Honestly, it’s all thanks to one of my friends. She’s an interior designer. If you see anything with quotes on it, it’s all her.” Priya chuckled and set her keys on a tray near the door.

Violet glanced again at the couches, spotting a black cushion with gold lettering that read, “when in doubt, bring a bottle about.”

“I think I’m going to like her.” She smirked, knowing if they had absolutely nothing else in common, they could bond over their favourite beverages.

“I bet you will,” Priya winked and opened the first door on the left. “This is the guest room, which is for you.”

The room was styled identically to the layout of the front room, with white bedding and a black throw at the end. The large mirror on the wall had a gold frame, placed directly next to a sliding wardrobe. Next to the window that overlooked the pale city sat a desk, with a silver lamp and a gold pencil holder on top. It was small but felt more luxurious than her old apartment. Back in London, it was scarcely decorated, with only a couple makeup items thrown on top of her nightstand and empty bags discarded in the corner. But with a guest room, she imagined placing her cosmetics across the white dresser, placed against the right wall near the bed. She imagined her being able to hang her dresses up in the wardrobe, with her shoes neatly tucked away at the bottom. She imagined looking out the window at night on her desk, spending hours with nothing but her head as it drifted away while absentmindedly sipping a drink in her hand. It was bliss and it was only a _guest room_.

“Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” Violet properly walked in, taking in the scent of the vanilla and rose candle that burned atop the nightstand. “I can’t believe this.”

“Make yourself at home, babe. I imagine you’re pretty tired so unpack your things and get some rest and I can show you my room later. The bathroom is the next door over if you need it, and I’ll be in the living room.”

Violet turned and wrapped her arms around Priya’s frame. “This is incredible, thank you.”

The two remained swaying side to side in the room, as a stray ray of sunlight peeked through the clouds and found its way through the windowpane, creating a golden streak on top of a white lace rug. _There’s nothing to be afraid of here, it’s a fresh sta — are you sure of that? Fuck it, whoever knows anything? Just let me be happy, just let me live in this moment, please._ The voices subsided in Violet’s head and she was ready to sink her head into the plush pillows and sleep until her mind was clear and her heart was at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i said this would be a slowburn, i really wasn't kidding!!! but these first two chapters are just for exposition and creating the setting. let me know what you think! anything from thoughts, criticisms, or just general chats lmao, all is appreciated <3 hope you're all well!!

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i love writing dark stuff but figured i'd try incorporate some of it into a fanfic because i'm terrible at fluff and writing about love without some sort of emotional pain lmao. let me know what you think!!! <3


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